AI illustration: prompt by Kristian Eskildsen
He just thought he was restless
When the engineer Michael got his ADHD under control, his autism became apparent.
By Kristian Eskildsen
Kate Aamund, a doctor at Privatpsykiater, regularly meets adults who discover they have ADHD or autism late in life.
One of them is Michael. He is an engineer, in his late fifties, and for most of his life, he has been used to being busy.
“He's been driven by an engine his whole life,” says Kate Aamund.
“Extreme sports, projects, overtime, new ideas. Something always needed to be happening.”
But Michael didn't actually come to the clinic because of himself in the first place. His son did.
The son became the beginning
Kate Aamund first met Michael when she was assessing his son for ADHD. The father also attended one of the consultations, and while they were talking about ADHD, stress, and different ways of managing everyday life, Michael began to talk about his own strategies.
“I could hear that there was something recognisable,” says Kate Aamund.
But at that time, it wasn't properly investigated. It wasn't until about a year later that Michael himself contacted the clinic. Now, something had begun to change.
“He could no longer bear his own life”
Michael said that he had started to lose energy. He was feeling more and more exhausted and couldn't understand why he suddenly couldn't manage the same things as before.
“He started to become depressed and felt that he could no longer cope with the life he had lived,” says Kate Aamund.
The investigation quickly showed that he had ADHD.
As the medicine calmed the restlessness
Michael started ADHD medication, and as with many others, it brought more peace to his mind. But at the same time, something else happened.
“When the ADHD is toned down, some of the autistic traits can suddenly stand out much more clearly,” explains Kate Aamund.
For Michael, it was a powerful experience. He began to realise how much energy he had spent his whole life trying to fit in socially. How much he had masked himself.
Among other things, he realised:
- social situations drained him
- small talk had never meant anything to him
- that he actually preferred to talk about his special interests and technical subjects
- that he had often used alcohol to make it easier to be social
“He found out that he had been masking his whole life,” says Kate Aamund.
At the same time, the investigation also pointed to autism.
“Many people think autism has to be like Rain Man”
According to Kate Aamund, Michael is far from the only one.
Many adults with autism have lived much of their lives without a diagnosis because they have had jobs, families and functioned well externally.
“We still have an idea that autism has to look a certain way,” she says.
“But many learn to compensate. Especially intelligent people with strong professional skills can go under the radar for many years.”
For Michael, engineering had actually been a way of hiding difficulties. He thrived in the technical and structured, whereas social relationships often felt more demanding.
An example of autistic burnout
Kate Aamund sees Michael as a good example of what is called autistic burnout or autistic burnout. When people with autism try to adapt to their surroundings over many years, the strain can eventually become too much.
“You can't keep compensating at the same pace your whole life,” she explains.
For some, the breakdown comes later, in their 40s, 50s or beyond, when the body and nervous system can no longer withstand the pressure.
This can manifest as:
- Exhaustion
- Depression
- lack of energy
- increased need for isolation
- stress sensitivity
- The feeling of no longer being able to function as before
Getting to know yourself
Today Michael is still figuring out who he is with his new knowledge about himself. It's not necessarily a relief overnight.
“It can be scary,” says Kate Aamund.
“For some, it almost feels like meeting a new version of themselves.”
But the diagnoses have simultaneously given Michael something he has never had before: an explanation for why life has sometimes felt harder than it appeared from the outside.
The name Michael is fictitious to conceal the patient's identity.